raspberryturk | Room 429, Monday Evening

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Room 429, Monday Evening

Reno was going to sit on his bed and eye his cellphone. Dojima was right, really. If he couldn't understand the concept of giving people time, he should at least call Rude and tell him that he wasn't five anymore, and all reports for the time being would be typed up in a semi-sane manner.

And that would be why he was eying his phone.

He wasn't, however, reaching for it.

It was just fine where it was sitting. He could call Rude up any time, take the heat for getting him in crap with Tseng or whatever, and maybe he'd have things sorted out a little better by then. There were, after all, a lot of things to sort through.

Yeah. Yeah, he didn't have to pick up the phone after all. Save Rude the trouble. The big guy would appreciate it later.

[ooc: The door is open a crack, and the post is totally open for invasion from random persons. Oooooo.]

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That was his door. That was totally his door.

She had a nifty new shirt and some capris to go with it. Jeans. The jeans were nice. And some of those funky espa-whatever that she couldn't pronounce the way Dōjima did.

She also had a black miniskirt but that was really, really weird to wear to someone if you were just going to yell at them. Um. Right? Which she was. Going to yell at him.

In a minute. When she knocked. Pacing, first. Pacing was good.

Pacing was good in that 'lets the guy inside totally see you're walking back and forth in front of his door' sort of way.

Which, depending on your viewpoint was good, sure.

Reno gave up on the phone altogether and stood up, wandering toward the door to investigate the aforementioned pacing. He pushed open the door and...

... Oh. Well. This was unexpected.

"Hey?"

Rikku jumped. That was stupid. She didn't know he was there? His door was cracked, for crying out loud.

"Hi," she said. "I was just ..."

Vague gesturing.

"Yeah, I see that." He made a bit of a mimic gesture with one hand before slouching sideways against his doorway. Casually. See how casual he was? Oh, he was casual, alright. "How's that goin' for you?"

"It's ... going," she said. She nodded. "Okay, then. Uh. See you around?"

Reno straightened up quickly and stepped out into the hall.

"You don't gotta go, Rikku. I mean. You're down here, gotta be down here for... something? Maybe. I could be wrong, zoto. Have been before."

He was rambling. Excellent.

"Why were you down here?"

"I was gonna ..."

Blink.

You see, everyone keeps telling me I'm repressing things, so I was going to come down here and yell at you. Where would you like to start?

Blink.

"... Dunno. Think I forgot," she lied. Badly.

"Oh."

He stuck a hand into a pocket and chewed the inside of his lip for a moment.

"Well, can I get you anything? I got, uh. No, you probably don't want a drink. But we can... talk, maybe?"

"That always kinda goes bad," she said. "The talking-thing. When we do it, lately."

She jammed her hands into her pockets. See, now they matched.

"I'm not ... judging you. Am I?"

"Judging me?" He looked confused for a moment, then gave a shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't think so, zoto. It's a lot to swallow, or somethin'. You need space, I'm good with that, that doesn't mean you're... judging. Right?"

He didn't feel entirely sure, himself. But would she actually have to ask, if she was?

"I don't hate you," she said, shaking her head. She frowned. "And I don't hate them, either. The Guado. I don't hate. If I let myself hate them, I'm just doing what they did to us. Next time it'll be Guadosalam. Someone has to stop it, and if I don't, no one will."

There was an oddly bitter note, lurking there.

"You don't have to act on somethin' to hate it. And you don't have to hate somethin' to act on it. And you don't have to do either, to judge someone, zoto."

He took a step backward and leaned in the doorway again.

"If you gotta feel somethin', I don't think tellin' yourself not to is gonna help."

Feel it. Try for ten minutes. If you can't handle ten, try five, or one.

"All things considered, even if you're not judgin' now, you have every right to let yourself feel it, Rikku."

"If I hate them --" Rikku folded her arms, nearly angry. "You don't get it. They thought we were nothing. Just stupid heathens. Worthless. It didn't matter what anyone did to us, because we were just the Al Bhed. Everything was our fault. If I hate them, then I start doing that, too. It's too easy. I'll believe anything someone tells me about them. I can't do that any more. We can't do that any more. I don't get to hate them, or you. Not if I ever want things to change."

"You don't get to? You don't get to hate me, Rikku? Are you listening to you? It's not like I'm an entire group of people, here. I'm one guy, and I did bad shit and lied to you about it, and you're saying you don't get to hate me. Like you would if you could but someone's told you not to."

He stuck his other hand into his pocket.

"Which is it, Rikku? You don't want to hate me, because you just don't feel up for it, or you don't get to hate me, because you're not lettin' yourself. Because there's a difference, zoto."

"I told me not too!" There was the foot-stomping again. "I don't hate! It'd be way too easy to just ... give in and go, they did bad things because they're horrible freaking people and I hate them! They're trying to leave Guadosalam, they can't handle the guilt of what they did, and I don't get to go good! You should feel guilty! My friends are dead! My family's dead! Feel bad about it, dammit! Don't expect me to tell you --"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Never mind."

He shook his head and pushed away from the doorframe again.

"It's okay to keep talking, Rikku. I mean, get it off your chest, or somethin'. If it means yellin, or puttin' blame on someone, or even hating..." He shrugged. "You don't gotta keep hating. But if you keep tryin' to swallow it, that don't help, either, yo."

"What would you know about it?" she said, eyes blazing suddenly. "Have you ever tried? I'll be the better person. I'll apologize, when Wakka calls me a heathen. I'll be polite, when my kind isn't welcome in the temple. I'll smile and be fucking nice because if I'm hateful and angry then they get to justify all their stupid petty-minded prejudices. Those Al Bhed are just bad-tempered! All I did was call her a grease-monkey and she went off on me! You can't trust those people."

"It's not like nobody ever gave me reason to hate 'em before, Rikku. Real reason to make fists with my hands and wanna go out there and hurt people, because they deserved it, not because of who they were." Reno took a deep breath, trying like hell to keep from raising his voice. "It ain't the same. Sure as hell ain't the same, zoto. But just because I didn't live your life don't mean I got no clue what it's like to have reason to hate."

"You're damn right it's not the same!" She stomped closer, waving her hands around crazily. "You go beat somebody up, it's some guy beating up someone else. I do it? It's just another sign you can't trust those Al Bhed. After Mi'ihen? After everything failed? The Yevonites decided it was their punishment. They had teamed up with us! Therefore Yevon was pissed and that's why everybody died. I don't know where that leaves us! Maybe our half of the group died because we were just the fucking Al Bhed!"

If Reno were to straighten his posture any more, he might end up hurting himself.

"I. Didn't. Do. That." His voice was very strained, now, as he tried not to yell back. "I did a lot of dirty, dirty shit under ShinRa orders, but that wasn't me, Rikku. I never had anything against anyone just for bein' what they are. Shit, I never heard half those words you just said in my life, yoto."

"You would have," she said coldly. "You said it yourself. They give you orders. Home, the Sector Seven slums, Fandom, just point me there and I'll kill those people. I can do it wholesale so I don't have to work overtime."

A slow, deep breath. Hold it. Hold it.

Reno closed his eyes and bit his tongue, bit back the urge to scream and kick and smash his hand through the wall.

"Wasn't just the slums. Topside got wiped out, too. Wasn't about... Wasn't just..." Another breath. "Wasn't just because they gave me the order, Rikku."

"Oh, that's much better," she chirped. "I'm glad you're also a sociopath who enjoys mass killing."

"That isn't it!" His hands were going to stay in his pockets, because if they left, she would see them shaking, and no, no, there was no way he was going to let her see him lose it, here. Wasn't going to happen. Last time she caught him losing it was the time that started all of this. "They weren't Al Bhed, Rikku! It wasn't about Yevon or the Guado or whatever. They took everything, dammit! AVALANCHE took fucking everything and were going to take more and-"

He choked on it. Shook his head. When he spoke next, the fight was gone all over again.

"Wasn't just about the fact that they only left three of us. But that's most of it. Not the same. You're right."

Three of them left. Rikku stared for a few seconds, wrapping her head around what he was suggesting.

"The Turks," she breathed. "The ones that ... never came home. They did that?"

There had been more of them once, this group of his, and then something terrible happened to most of them, and she was resisting the urge to reach out to him.

"We ... shouldn't be arguing here," she said quickly. "The hallway. This has to be ... you know."

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